Monday, July 25, 2016


He showed up on a 
Sunday (I remember my
Portuguese, Sunday=Domingo)
And began to sing.
He sings of doves in lower 
Terraces and bushtits in hedges.
He sings of hawks in high
Distance and a lazy cat --he makes
All their sounds, announcing to all
Birds this is a good garden to nest in.
He is a virtuoso --his opera includes
Survival-- and the birds come.
There is nothing medicinal in
His art of reciting himself
But he helps other birds decide,
And he makes me feel good.
I call him Placebo Domingo.
"Bravo", I tell him. "Bravo!"

Monday, July 11, 2016

Norma's Scarecrow

Because of bunnies
And squirrels, she
Built a scarecrow
Today and draped
It purple in wind
To send out royal
Edicts snagging sticks.
They flutter, they defend!

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Then Wings

We come from piscine
Astronauts with a desire
To explore atmospheres
More rarified --equate
Progress with higher
And higher flight.
There are times though,
Admittedly, when
I miss my flippers.